A Mission Away
by MandyQ
Summary: The Dark Lord calls and a Death Eater answers, thus is the way of the Order. But for one soldier of the cause a mission to the USSR costs more than time away from home. Lucius et al. in the 70's. Lucius x Narcissa. Please R&R. TDH compliant. No spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Malfoy at all. I do own three giant Voldemorts thanks to my WB guy who is awesome. Since I do not own any Malfoys and my personal Voldemorts are made from very nice paper and nothing more, I lay no claim to the right to have written this. But I did anyway. I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good. I also swear that no infringement is intended against JK Rowling (who does own all of these things) and that I have made no money on this or any other story I have written in her universe.

A/N: Told ya I'd have something new up and going tonight. I am such an addict. :P

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Lucius Malfoy hated Lithuania before he ever set foot in the cursed country. He'd been called there on special orders of the Dark Lord and it had been the singular most dreadful mission he had ever undertaken. He'd been made to take a train, then a boat, and then another train in order to rendezvous with Dolohov and Karkaroff at the border between Poland and Czechoslovakia where the lot of them had been squeezed into a coach pulled by Thestrals (of all the ridiculous animals) in order to reach their destination.

There was a lot on the line and the Dark Lord would not risk having them Apparate even a portion of the way lest it raise any eyebrows and get them caught. There was a problem in Lithuania; a social problem that had a number of the Dark Lord's most trusted followers being snuck in to the Soviet Union to take care of it. It was apparently of enough concern to the Dark Lord that he was willing to allow a number of trusted Death Eaters to spend five days journeying overland and through the air in no great comfort to reach the battle ground.

Five days of discomfort to get to Lithuania had caused a hatred in Lucius for all things Soviet to the extent that he was loathe to drink from a local well. Once they'd arrived in the woods where they were to be headquartered, the drivers had set them all up with cots in tents and then cast a concealment charm on their camp. Tents indeed! Even with magic to make the place more habitable than it would have been otherwise, it was still miserable and Lucius couldn't help it id he thought so. If he hadn't been entirely devoted to the service of the Dark Lord, he would have made an excuse not to come.

The mission was simple, if drawn out. There was a Lithuanian wizard named Vasili Kolnikov who had begun pushing an agenda that all in the service of the Dark Lord found abhorrent. Kolnikov was a Communist first and foremost and had begun pushing for a new kind of social equality between Wizards and Muggles. He was strongly encouraging the witches and wizards of Lithuania to marry and breed with Muggles and Muggles only. Under this program, he was certain that it would only take a few generations before all would be equal in the ability to use magic. The Death Eaters had been dispatched to rid the world of such radical and abominable thinking. They were to make an example of Kolnikov , as well as eliminate all of those who espoused, practiced, and preached his way of thinking.

They would stay as long as it took. These people were to be dealt with. Wizards and Muggles and their filthy offspring alike were to fall victim to the ready wands of Lord Voldemort's soldiers. The sooner the better, as far as Lucius was concerned. He had come with Karkaroff, Dolohov, Avery, and Macnair Sr. They had spent four days here already conducting reconnaissance and making plans for the raids that were to come. Others were to arrive in the morning, having traveled different paths and through different means in order to reach the camp just in time to be briefed and begin their work.

Lucius felt strongly about what he was doing here; stronger even was that feeling than his wish to be in a proper bed this night. The strong desire for a proper bed and to have a proper roof over his head, along with an intense loathing of sleeping alone were keeping him from being able to sleep worth a damn.

He'd not even realized how much a good night's sleep had become contingent on sharing a bed with his wife until just a few months prior. He'd been out in the country, in a village the name of which he hadn't so much as bothered to learn. The Muggle neighbors of the mudblood couple they'd come to dispatch had accosted them with a firearm. Lucius didn't really remember the moment of being shot, but he did remember that it hurt. He also remembered quite clearly that Roddy Lestrange and Severus Snape had managed to get him home, but had deposited him in the nearest guest bed to the Apparition point instead of bothering to put him on his own pillows. And as good a job as Severus had done in patching him up, it had been three days before he was able to make it up the steps to his own bed. And the guest bed had been far too small to accommodate both himself and his wife. That had been three days of very lousy sleep.

He was now on his ninth night of very lousy sleep in a _tent_. It was miserable. He tossed in his cot and tried for the umpteenth time to get comfortable. He shut his eyes and thought of home. He was anxious to get this mission over and done with both because of ardent desire to eliminate this commie filth and all evidence of it and because of the even more overpowering desire to go home; home to Narcissa.

He had to smile when he thought of his wife; his beautiful blonde pregnant wife. He wondered if he'd be able to see any difference in her figure when he got home. He'd never experienced this before, but he knew enough of how it worked to be aware that soon enough her slender body would be changing shape to accommodate the little life that was growing inside of her; that little life that he had put there. Lucius sighed. It was a frightening concept, the discovery that he was going to be a father. When Cissa had told him he suspected that he might faint. But it wasn't long until he had become jubilant in the knowledge.

He wondered, though, how it was going to be once the baby came. If he was this unsettled by having to spend time apart from his wife and child while the two of them were sharing one skin, he wasn't at all certain how at ease his mind would manage to ever be when he had to leave them both later on. And this mission was doubly torture because he couldn't even write to her. It was their first time apart since their marriage two years earlier. Two years, one month and three days earlier to be exact.

He knew he was more in love with his wife than he really ought to be; a fact which had been reiterated to him again and again by her own sister, a fellow Death Eater. Lucius, however, did not find his love for her to be the liability that her elder sister seemed to insist that it was. Perhaps that would be true of some wives, but not his Narcissa. She was strong and capable and brilliant and the Dark Lord himself had been impressed by her. Narcissa was an asset to him, never a liability. His desire to return home to her was enough to light a fire in him on even the coldest evenings when called away at the Dark Lord's behest.

It would have been less miserable if he could have had some word from her. Lucius had to admit that he wasn't fully prepared for the reality of a lengthy mission to an undisclosed location. It was positively maddening to not be able to write lest the owl be seen by someone looking for him and his comrades. He was more than ready for the others to arrive and to get this work done.

He tried his best to think of something pleasant enough to allow him to find sleep. He pictured his pretty wife, bidding him farewell at the gatehouse on their property with a smile and a kiss and a promise of gingersnap cookies on his return from Lithuania. He pictured her in the drawing room over her bobbin lace, buzzing around the second floor picking out upholstery and decoupage fabrics for the nursery, strolling in the east garden among the statuary where they were wed or among the newly budding rose bushes of the west garden. He wasn't aware just when sleep claimed him, but he dreamt longingly of home.


	2. Chapter 2

Morning came earlier, brighter, and colder than Lucius would have liked had he been given a choice. He'd slept better last night than any night previous since arriving in Lithuania, but that did not lessen the aches in his body from the hard cot, flimsy pillow, and frigid air that he was being forced to deal with. It was too bloody cold for April, and Lucius could feel the wrenched muscles in his neck and back spring to painful use as he sat himself up on his cot.

Lucius saw presently to his morning ablutions, brushing his teeth and his hair as best he could in these relatively cramped quarters. He snickered at himself for complaining. The interior of the tent was larger than most of the local village hovels he had seen in his reconnaissance of the past several days, and he was sure that the feather tic on his cot was much softer than the straw beds the locals were sleeping on. But he was a Malfoy, and he was used to nothing short of opulence and luxury and this Spartan living was not to his taste.

He retrieved his wand from beneath his pillow and pointed it at the enamel claw-footed tub in the far corner of the tent. Instantly, the bathtub was filled with steaming water. Lucius sighed; a hot bath would certainly help to ease the ache in his muscles, and was one of the few comforts he could allow himself out here in the gods-forsaken wilderness. "Dobby!" he called into the air. His pathetic little house-elf cum manservant came scurrying out from under his bed. So that was where the creature had been sleeping.

"Master?" Dobby addressed him.

"Breakfast, Dobby," Lucius ordered. The elf nodded and disappeared from sight with a 'crack'. Lucius rose from his seat at the lavatory stand and ambled the few feet across the tent to his bath, kneading the sore muscles in his back and shoulders as he walked. He quickly divested himself of his flannel pajamas and sank gladly into the hot water. Damn, that felt good. He slid down until the water was lapping up around his chin, allowing the hot water to relax away some of the strain from sleeping on that damned makeshift bed. When he got home he was going to have to beg Narcissa for a shoulder massage. She had become very adept over the past couple of years at working the kinks and the aches out of any muscle that might be sore.

He heard a 'crack' and saw Dobby reappear before him with a tray of meats and cheeses with slices of dark bread in the center. Dobby brought the tray to within his reach and he brought his hand out of the tub to snag a slice of ham from off of it.

"Have the others begun to arrive yet, Dobby?" Lucius asked. The house-elf nodded his head.

"Yes Master," Dobby answered. "Mister Crouch and the Messrs Lestrange are being settled in now. I overheard that Mister Macnair junior and Mister Nott will be arriving shortly."

"What of Bella and Severus?" Lucius asked, furrowing his brow. Rodolphus Lestrange was rarely seen without the company of his wife Bellatrix, and Severus Snape had been due to arrive days ago.

"Dobby does not know, sir," the elf answered. "Dobby does not ask." Lucius frowned at his servant, but he figured that it was honestly better that way. Dobby had come to work for him from the house of the Blacks of Coventry, as a part of the dowry the Malfoys received upon his marriage to Narcissa. He hadn't insisted upon there even being a dowry. Lucius thought it an archaic custom and had assured Cygnus Black that Narcissa was a treasure in and of herself. But Black had insisted; pointing out that Narcissa's older sister Bellatrix had already married and a house-elf had been included in her dowry as well, and that things should be equal for both sisters. And so he had taken Dobby on as his personal valet, but the pitiful elf had not yet gained the social grace to interact with those in Lucius' milieu and so he found it better for Dobby not to speak unless spoken to.

"Perhaps Roddy will have word," Lucius asserted. He sat up straight in the tub. "Go and fetch my towel," he instructed the little elf. "And fold my night clothes before I get out of this tub and get them wet. Dobby vanished the tray of food with a snap of his fingers and snatched Lucius' flannel pajamas off of the floor.

"Of course, sir," Dobby agreed, "These pajamas were a present to master from missus. Dobby thinks his missus has beautiful taste. She decorates the rooms in the house with colors that match the sky. And missus is never less than kind to the servants. Kibbitt and Lollie from the Malfoy kitchen get so excited that they have a missus to cook for that they always make extra cookies to surprise her." The pajamas had been folded and Dobby was back at the side of the tub with a large bath towel by the time he had finished his statement. Normally, Lucius would have had no patience for Dobby's ramblings, but he couldn't help but be pleased to hear that even the house-elves enjoyed the presence of his sweet, pretty wife.

Lucius stood from the tub and wrapped the towel around his waist. He dried and dressed himself as quickly as possible, to try and allow the aura of the warm water to cling to his skin as long as possible and thereby keep warm. He was immediately chilled again when he poked his head out of the tent and into the cold Lithuanian air.

The morning was gray, as had been the case every morning. Mist and cold hung in the air like a miserable blanket waiting to engulf an unsuspecting passer by in gloominess. Lucius really really hated this place. He walked the few feet to take a seat in front of the campfire. Walden Macnair and his son Matthew were already seated nearby. "Morning Lucius," the younger Macnair called over to him.

"Matthew," he greeted. "How was the trip?"

"Bloody awful if you ask me," Matthew said back. Lucius saw out of the corner of his eye that Dobby had begun making the rounds of the assembled men with a tray filled with cups of coffee. A house-elf was nothing if he wasn't actively serving his master. Lucius snagged a mug off of the tray and took a very gratifying sip as Macnair continued. "We had to take a boat out of Dover all the bloody way to the coast of Klaipeda and then these bloody carriages over the treetops to get the rest of the way here. Took us three days almost."

"Don't complain," Lucius challenged. "Took us five, we had to meet up with Karkaroff and Dolohov and then head north."

"That's what dad was saying," Matthew shared. "Sounds awful. And you've been here for a while?" Lucius nodded over his cup of coffee.

"I'm ready to get on this and get it done," he answered.

"Ready to get back to the mansion, Lucius?" the elder Macnair jokingly asked him. Lucius nodded.

"More than you know, Walden," he assured the other man. "I've no taste for sleeping on a cot in a tent in the woods. I am merely here to do my duty and go the hell home."

"I'm with you, man," Lucius heard Charlton Avery call from behind him. He turned to see Avery stepping from his tent toward the fire, grabbing a coffee from Dobby's tray on his way to the chair next to Lucius. "I'm ready to get this bloody overwith."

"And bloody it will be," Rodolphus Lestrange inserted as he and his brother Rabastan joined the conversation. Lucius snickered. Bloody indeed; he was looking quite forward to the blood they were about to spill, it was enough to keep his mind occupied during the hours in which he was in the company of his fellows and allow him to forget how miserable he was when he went to bed each night. Lucius stood briefly to shake hands with Roddy and Stan.

"Rodolphus," Lucius addressed him. "Have you news for us on the whereabouts of your wife?" he asked. Roddy looked at Lucius suspiciously as he seated himself in the circle surrounding the fire.

"Said she had to go to Wiltshire," he answered, still looking oddly in Lucius' direction. "Took Severus Snape with her. I figured she'd gone to see your wife," he finished. Lucius shrugged.

"Could be," he answered. His wife and Roddy's were sisters, and he supposed it was perfectly acceptable for Bella to have gone for a visit before leaving to come on this mission. Although, bringing Severus Snape along was a bit suspect. Lucius wondered if Roddy suspected as he did; that perhaps Bellatrix and Severus were having some sordid affair? The two of them never seemed to have gotten on particularly well, but that had never stopped Bella from engaging in a purely physical tryst before. True, Lucius had never known Bellatrix to cheat on her husband, but still she'd had quite the reputation growing up for her indiscriminate sexual encounters and as far as Lucius was concerned, she'd never be above suspicion in that vein.

"They should be here before sunset," Roddy added. "They should be here in plenty of time before we engage the enemy."

"Leave it to Bellatrix to manage to skip the tedium of planning and arrive only just in time for the carnage," Walden Macnair asserted. That remark elicited a chuckle from the assembled gentlemen.

"Although you three have managed to arrive after the work has been mostly done, as well," Avery asserted. "There's not a whole lot to do today," he added.

"Well," Lucius half-contradicted, "we'll be moving camp in a few hours to get farther from the coast and closer to where we need to be. Kolniov's followers are mostly in the village of Ramygala, which is not easily reached from a camp this far to the west. Once we're all assembled and fed, we'll have to begin packing up. Matthew, did you bring a servant along?"

"Yeah," the younger Macnair affirmed. "Iddik," he told the others. "He's good with cooking, not so much with thinking." Lucius nodded.

"Dobby's getting better at hospitality," he offered. "But either way, ten men and two elves… we will have to do much of our own work in getting the camp moved. If Bellatrix and Severus have not arrived by the time we need to bug out, we will leave one of the elves here with the coordinates."

"Will we be moving camps every night?" Tiberius Nott called to the assembled group as he came toward them from the far side of the carriage that he and Matthew Macnair had recently arrived in. Lucius and Walden shook their heads.

"No," Walden answered. "Maybe twice more. It will depend on how much we get done and how fast and where. You'll see when we get the final reports from Karkaroff and Dolohov this afternoon where it is that we have things to accomplish," he informed them. Walden Macnair had been put in charge of this mission by Lord Voldemort himself, and the others knew from experience that following the man who had been chosen to lead was the same as following orders from the Dark Lord himself.

"Where are Igor and Antonin?" Nott asked the others.

"They went to Ramygala last night," Lucius explained. "It is beneficial to us to have men along who speak the local language. They've done this every night since we've been in country. Each night they go into towns and villages and have dinner in a pub or a tavern; sometimes even staying the night at a local inn or with a family if they were so invited. They've been playing as though they were admirers of Kolnikov and his way of thinking. By the time we see the two of them again, they will likely be able to take us straight to the disgusting son of a bitch."

"And the rest of you?" Matthew asked. His father looked at him sideways and frowned. "What I meant to say," he clarified, "is what else has been going on. The two of them have been talking with the locals, so I take it that the rest of you have been…" Matthew paused.

"We have been making maps," Lucius answered him. "We have been surveying the villages and the terrain. We have made plans for cover and for concealment. We have formulated a strategic battle plan that will have us out of here in no more than five days unless something goes terribly terribly wrong, and that can have us home in England by tea time on Thursday if all goes perfectly."

"What day is today?" Avery asked. Good question.

"Monday," Rabastan Lestrange answered.

"So we could have this done in two days?" a new voice to the conversation piped up. It was Barty Crouch. He had come in with the first coach of the morning, but seemed to have been hiding behind Rabastan Lestrange until just now. There was a prevailing opinion amongst the inner circle of the Death Eaters that the two of them were lovers. They were rarely if ever seen outside of each other's company, and it had been that way for as long as anyone could remember. Even if they weren't lovers, when Barty stood so close behind as to be entirely obscured by Stan, Lucius could see how the rumor got started.

"We could," Walden Macnair confirmed. "If everything goes perfectly according to plan," he allowed, "then I'll have you all home to your wives in no time. Except, of course, for you Rodolphus," he corrected himself. "Your wife will be here this afternoon."

Lucius sincerely hoped everything went perfectly according to plan.


	3. Chapter 3

Breaking down camp had been even more onerous a task than Lucius had expected it to be. The stupid house-elves had been less help even than anyone had suspected. The two of them mostly dashed after their masters' heels, waiting to be given an order and succeeding only in tripping the gentleman he was following at the time. Even with the help of the two blind coachmen, it had taken more than three hours to get everything broken down into bushels of tent canvas and furnishing fit to be moved by carriage. And it had been another hour or more to transport all of the people and supplies to the new campsite. The elves and the coachmen had nearly finished putting everything back together now, but it was going to be tight if the Death Eaters were going to get readied, fully briefed, and off to work on time.

Lucius appreciated that Lord Voldemort had blinded the coachmen. It seemed to be fitting that they were only able to see through magical means. And it was most helpful that their access to information such as in whose service they had been pressed and where exactly the missions were occurring was greatly limited. They had been placed under the Imperious curse and robbed of their sight, as far as Lucius could tell, around the year his parents were married. And they had been silently and unquestionably in the service of the Dark Lord ever since.

This was an appropriate level of service to the Dark Lord, as far as Lucius was concerned. Although he had no respect for the blind men following the Death Eaters blindly, he did appreciate their efforts, and he was certainly grateful that he was spared the more menial tasks involved in building and breaking camp. He tried very hard not to get too terribly annoyed with them as they made any one of their multiple and inevitable errors. After all, cursing a coachman would do no one any good, and better he save his wrath for the coming night's raids.

They were to approach a small wizarding enclave near the town of Ramygala. They would be coming in from the west, from the wilderness opposite that in which they were to be camped. They would split up into groups of three and each group of them would take care of a quadrant of the town, broken up by cardinal directions. They were to leave no one alive. They were to leave no building unscathed. This village would serve as an example. The ideas of Vasili Kolnikov were not to be tolerated. Period. There was no room in the world for anyone who thought like that and the Death Eaters would have it stamped out entirely by the end of the week.

Stamped. Out. Entirely.

They would advance on this little town, this "Critzich" or some like as the locals call it. And they would leave none alive to tell the tale. Then, they would Ario, the wizard suburb of the city of Ariogala, which was on the main road. They would again leave no witnesses. Again, they would wipe this filth from the face of their world with one calm swish of their wands. That was all that had been planned for the night. If everything went exactly according to plan two villages full of Muggle loving filth would be forever gone by sunup, and two more would fall the next night. They would easily capture Kolnikov; for he was practically Squib according to the information the Death Eaters had gleaned from conversing with the locals. Kolnikov would be brought before the Dark Lord to answer for his crimes before the second morning. And then the soldiers of the cause could happily return home.

Home. Lucius paced back and forth in font of the fire and thought of how wonderful it was going to be to have seen this quest to fruition and finally return home. He stood with his back to the fire and watched as the sun began to set over the tree line. A carriage came into view on the horizon and Lucius caught himself shaking his head in consternation. Leave it to Bella to arrive just in time for the carnage.

The Death Eaters were suiting up by the time Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape joined the amassed warriors. Masks and hoods in place, the bunch of them began to advance on the little enclave. They marched quietly but intently through the thicket of trees until the village came into sight.

The place was pathetic. Dolohov had described the place as 'quaint', but the bunch of Death Eaters had to snigger when they saw the place. It was nothing more than concentric circles of stone cottages with low, clay shingle roofs and no visible means of security. Lucius figured that there would be no problem at all infiltrating and liquidating this village and the next as well. Lucius could almost feel his own pillow as he advanced into his quadrant.

He was flanked on either side by Bellatrix Lestrange and Charlton Avery. The three of them would take out the northwestern quadrant of the village. The first three houses went easy enough; a few _Avada Kedavra_s aimed carefully through an open window and a little bit of fire thrown at a mattress or toward a set of curtains did the trick quickly and simply.

It was the fourth house in which the Death Eaters hit a snag. The lady of the house was awake and visible. They could tell that they'd been spotted through a window as they passed and Bellatrix took the opportunity to cease with the stealth and begin acting altogether like herself.

It wasn't as thought Lucius was unaware of Bella's preference for doing things the loudest and most frightening way possible; it was just that he would have preferred not to listen to the woman's screams as Bella let her have it with the Cruciatis curse. _Crucio_ was a favorite of Bella's and she seemed to be unable to get through a night's work without it. Lucius shook his head and tried as best as he could to rein in her vehemence, but to no avail.

"_Crucio!_" Bella yelled for a second time. The lady of the house was still writhing on the floor amongst the strands of yarn she had lost from her knitting when Bellatrix had first broken down the door. The second curse was aimed at the young woman's husband as he stumbled drowsily into the main room of the cottage from wherever he had been sleeping. The man fell to the floor in a blubbering heap, convulsing as though he was on fire. His wife managed to stand and lunged toward Bellatrix's wand. Lucius caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and immediately trained his wand on her willowy form.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Lucius shouted. A green flash issued forth from Lucius' wand and hit the woman square in the chest. She fell backward, stiff and unseeing. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at him and grinned, her wand never leaving the thrashing man on the floor.

"You are a cold hearted bastard, Lucius," Bella said to him. Lucius wasn't quite sure if she meant that as a compliment or an insult.

"I am merely doing my job, Bellatrix," he reminded her with a scowl. He glared down at the man she held under Cruciatis and shook his head. "A thing which you had ought to consider more critical at this moment than your…er… extracurricular activities." He snarled down at the quaking body on the dirt floor of the cottage. "_Avada Kedavra_!" he called again. Another flash of green and the man fell silent.

"You do your job well," Bella said to him as she kicked the body on her way out of the room. "I had wondered if you might be here," she told him, flicking her wand toward the wooden door of the cottage as they stepped through it so that it caught fire as soon as they were clear. "You know I've been at your house," she informed him. Lucius nodded.

"I had suspected as much," he allowed.

"Cissy covered for you," Bella said, "always saying that I'd just missed you, or that you'd gone out for the afternoon or some such. I suppose she knows where you are?"

"She does," Lucius confirmed. "What is it to you?"

"Again, I say you've a cold heart," Bella accused. "To have left Cissy for such a time, in her condition… I'm not certain if I should hex you cross eyed or admire you for your devotion to the Dark Lord's cause."

"It's not as though her condition is at all uncommon," he defended himself. Narcissa was pregnant, not ill.

"Even so," Bella countered, leading Lucius and the as yet silent Avery into the street and toward their next unwitting victims. "Staying away for so long like this, if it were for any other reason I'd have to at least torture you for it. You'd likely not live through the experience."

"My wife is of no real concern to you, Bellatrix. I assure you that she can handle being alone for a few days," he assured her. True, Cissa had been plagues of late with nausea and the inability to sleep altogether soundly, but he had been assured before he left for Lithuania that her symptoms were quite common in early pregnancy and that he had nothing to worry about in leaving. Bella had always been a little overprotective when it came to Narcissa, but accusing Lucius of somehow having wronged her by leaving was nasty even by Bellatrix standards.

"She is my baby sister, Lucius," Bella reminded him. "You'd be wise to remember that. You've left her alone and unwell, and I would be right in punishing you harshly for it."

"Narcissa will undoubtedly be perfectly well again soon enough," Lucius reminded his sister-in-law. "In the mean time I am here to accomplish something." Lucius led his fellow Death Eaters into the town square. The whole place seemed to be on fire, including the last house they were to have seen to. The group of them saw Walden Macnair and his son leaning against the wall of the house and chuckling as the elder of them puffed away on a cigar.

"I say, Malfoy," Walden called out. "I do apologize for in filtrating your quadrant, but it seems my son and I were assigned the area of town from which all of the tavern patrons hailed. Crouch and the Lestranges had already tackled the tavern, and so we had a bit of time on our hands."

"And you do know how my father loves his killing mists," Matthew chimed in. "He's so proud that he can do it all quick and painless."

"That's no fun at all, Macnair," Bellatrix sneered. "The fun is watching them squirm. The little bit of wonderful that you get to take home at the end of the night is the memory of the looks on their pathetic little Muggle faces when you've stuck them still with _Petrificus_ and then set to burning the house down over their heads. That's where the joy in the work lies, mates. Seeing the fear behind their eyes when you pull your wand, and then watching their insides turn to goo under Cruciatis. How you all can get off with a killing mist or a quiet _Avada Kedavra_ while the targets remain asleep, I'll never know."

"Some of us have more passion for the outcome than the process, Bellatrix," Lucius informed her.

"Speaking of which," Walden Macnair spoke up again between puffs on his cigar. "I believe our work here is done. Shall we move on to our next destination?" The four heads surrounding the elder Macnair nodded. There was a mission to be accomplished, after all. Perhaps Bella might enjoy the experience of standing in the village square and watching the place burn to ash and cinders around her, but the others were anxious to get the hell out of Lithuania as soon as possible. Even Bellatrix was in agreement with their inclination to leave this spot, though. She did have an unrivaled devotion to the Dark Lord and his cause; perhaps she'd had a moment of lucidity in which she recalled that the mission was not designed for her personal pleasure. They were there for a greater purpose than Bella's sadistic pleasure.

"Shall we gather the others?" Avery finally spoke. Both Macnairs nodded.

"We'll be going as soon as we muster," Walden affirmed. The night was going along splendidly.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was going along so well that Lucius couldn't even be bothered by the rain. It wasn't a hard rain, or a driving rain, or really any weather that would qualify as rain at all in some parts of the world. The moisture in the air as the Death Eaters trudged toward their final target was more like an intensified version of the mists that had hung about the countryside since they'd arrived in country.

Skulking through the thicket of trees toward their final target, Lucius felt himself growing more eager with every step. They were heading for the hamlet of "Tzichi", where they had it on very good authority that Kolnikov was waiting for them. There was no indication of whether or not Kolnikov or his inner circle had any indication that the Death Eaters were coming for them, but it seemed the consensus of the marching cadre that it didn't matter in the least.

The village would fall; of that they were certain. They would find Kolnikov and they would make him bleed. They would return to camp with their prisoner and Walden Macnair would alert the Dark Lord to his enemy's capture.

Three villages in two nights had been easier conquered than an afternoon's shopping in DiagonAlley. The Death Eaters had no reason to believe anything other than a similar cake walk lay ahead. Bellatrix had spent the later part of the evening practically foaming at the mouth as she was forming ideas as to what she was going to do with Kolnikov as soon as she could maneuver herself alone with him.

Bella was actually cackling as she practically bounced through the overgrown terrain. Lucius thought her ridiculous, as he and the others found it much more expedient to traverse the underbrush by clearing it with a silent "_diffindo_" from their wands. Bellatrix be damned, though. They were a man down for the night and they were heading into the most populous of the areas they'd been sent to dispatch.

Severus had stayed behind at camp to finish work on some potion or another and an essay for his History of Magic N.E.W.T.s. Lucius was more than ready for Severus to be over and done with his schooling already. It had surprised him that his friend had taken the Mark at seventeen, before he had finished school, and yet chosen to remain at Hogwarts. Severus would be taking his N.E.W.T.s in June and then he would finally be free to answer the Dark Lord's call whenever it came. Lucius was peripherally aware that there had been no small deception needed to excuse Severus from school for the amount of time involved to undertake this mission, but he was not exactly certain of the precise nature of the lie.

Lucius did know, however, that Walden Macnair had been insistent that Severus be along. The eldest member and leader of their contingent had become quite impressed with Severus as a strategist as well as his skill as a potions maker and had been adamant about the inclusion of the young Death Eater on the trip to Lithuania.

They took care to remain as quiet as possible when they began to see the village coming in to view through the trees. The place looked deserted. In fact, Lucius couldn't help but find it a little unsettling the way there seemed to be no activity about. The other three villages had presented themselves merely at rest; smoke still rising from chimneys and the occasional flicker of light from a solitary candle escaping through a pane of glass or from beneath a door. There was no smoke in this town. There was no light. There were no sounds of a chicken scratching or of the bleating of a goat or the growling of a dog. There was nothing here that the advancing Death Eaters could see as any sign of life.

Had they all evacuated? Was it clear enough from the news that must certainly have traveled of the previous night's assaults that these people were in grave danger? Had the entire village fled thanks to that? Lucius wasn't sure whether he hoped that they had or that they had not in fact fled. Were the village empty, the Death Eaters would have less time remaining to be out in the rain for this night and would be back at the relative warmth of their campsite in under an hour. The down side would be that: if the villagers and Kolnikov had fled, then there was no telling how long they were going to have to stay in this blasted country before recovering Lord Voldemort's prize.

And the Dark Lord would have his prize, they were determined of that. They would find Kolnikov if it took all year. Lucius snarled his face into a frown beneath his mask. A year was unacceptable. A month was unacceptable. He fully intended to be back in his own bed by the end of the week.

Quickly and efficiently, the lot of them moved on to the streets of the village and fanned out as their plans had dictated. Lucius headed down the alley to his left and pushed on the door to the first house he came to. It swung open under the force of his touch. He knew without entering the house that no one was there. He cast a flame at the stuffing that was coming loose from the cushions of the chair in the living room and walked back out.

Five more houses were each the same as the first. The only sign of life that he saw during the entire process was a cat that darted past him to get out the door of the third house. Damn this. Lucius was more than furious. He was livid. Setting things on fire just wasn't doing it for him anymore, he needed to hurt someone.

Lucius knew that he was not so mad as Bella. He did not revel in the suffering of those upon whom the wrath of the Dark Lord was visited through his hand. He did, however, have a certain sense of purpose when brought forth on a mission such as this and he was apt to get his temper tried when things went less than smoothly. And this mission in particular was bothersome in its last minute snag. He had been away from home and hearth and the ability to sleep soundly for far too long. Lucius was ready to eviscerate someone simply to quell his temper.

Lucius didn't realize as he had that tangible thought just how close he was to getting his wish. He heard Bellatrix's telltale scream of pain and delight from a few streets over and turned quickly on his heel to run toward it. He knew he'd hex her hair green if it turned out that she'd merely found a cat or a rat to torture for kicks. He heard her screaming again and ran faster. Somehow he knew that it wasn't a cat.

Bellatrix was engaged in a full on duel with a dirt-encrusted Lithuanian wizard, and obviously winning. "_Avada Kedavra_!" Lucius called , his wand pointed in the direction of the stranger. Lucius heard something in Russian called out from behind him as the green wash of light escaped the tip of his wand. He turned toward the sound just in time to miss a hex being thrown at him. He watched the stream of amber shoot past his shoulder and managed to fire off "_Sectumsempra_!" Lucius watched with no small satisfaction as the man fell to the ground, blood spilling from open wounds on his chest and face.

"I am impressed, Lucius," Bella said to him as she walked past him toward the center of the town.

"Have you any idea who those men were, Bella?" Lucius asked. He followed a few paces behind her. Bellatrix shook her head.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered suddenly, stopping in her tracks and turning toward him. Lucius only took a beat to decide that he did, in fact, hear the sound that Bella had been referring to. There was a battle happening in the town square. A magical battle; and a large scale one if Lucius had to guess by the sound of it. He took off in the direction of the noise and Bella was hot on his heels.

His wand made contact before his eyes so much as had the chance to focus. He threw out a silent "_Stupefy_!" at a pelt-clad Lithuanian woman who he had just watched cast something orange at Walden Macnair. The curse hit the woman square in the chest and knocked her back with just time enough for Charlton Avery to shout.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Avery's voice boomed as he came into the fray from the opposite side of the square. Hexes were being tossed about madly in Latin and in Russian, and Lucius watched in relief and annoyance as Bellatrix trained her wand on the recognizable form of a bearded gentleman standing at the gate of the village church.

"_Crucio!_" Bella hollered, and the bunch of them turned their heads to watch the man crumple into a helpless ball of pain on the ground. Bellatrix advanced intently on his position, cackling loudly as she watched him convulse in pain on the dirt of the churchyard. Lucius was sure that Bella took extra delight in the fact that she was watching him wallowing on the grounds of a church. Bella enjoyed little things like that.

There must have been fifty of them; armed compatriots of the pathetic Kolnikov, poised and ready for a fight. But they had not been ready enough. The ten Death Eaters made hasty work of the opposition, even if they were outnumbered five to one. More than one time during the fracas, Bellatrix had petrified her victim to join in the bloodletting for a moment. She would dispatch with a few of the enemy and then return with a further Cruciatis to her sobbing victim in the churchyard.

Within half an hour, the whole little town was fully involved in flames. The wizards that had met them with such intent to repel them had been laid out dead on in the streets without causing so much as mud on the robes of the Death Eaters. As they assembled to return to camp, Bellatrix levitated her now unconscious victim just high enough from the ground that she could poke him with her wand without too much effort. She danced and cackled her way through the burning village; a sight that elicited some glee from her comrades. The Death Eaters would certainly have a lovely night of celebration ahead of them and would undoubtedly be rewarded for their service to the Dark Lord. This night had gone much less smoothly than the last, but it was done at last.

They had found Kolnikov. It was he whom Bella had discovered at the gate to the town's church. It was he whom the Death Eaters had watched writhing and sobbing and convulsing in the dirt. And it was he whom Bellatrix levitated through the thick of the woods toward their encampment.

Lucius looked forward to watching the Dark Lord have his vengeance. But even more than that, Lucius was thrilled at the thought that he would be back in Wiltshire in time to have Sunday dinner with Narcissa.


	5. Chapter 5

The Death Eaters had always been a particularly rowdy lot. Lucius could look back fondly on at least a dozen nights of drunken revelry among his friends and comrades. And this night was setting itself up to top them all. He hadn't known that so much Firewhiskey had even brought along on the trip, but he was more than a little pleased to have a stiff snort and let his hair down.

It turned out that the coachmen had some skill at the fiddle and bodhran. The music was upbeat and chipper. Bellatrix was cackling and dancing around the fire with her husband, a bottle in one hand and her wand in the other. She'd suspended the barely conscious Kolnikov just near enough above the fire for him to be remarkably uncomfortable and yet high enough so as to make sure that he would certainly survive the treatment.

Lucius sat in one of the more comfortable chairs on the periphery of the fire with Severus Snape and Matthew Macnair. The three of them seemed to have the perfect timing in passing the bottle they shared back and forth in the appropriate rhythm to keep everyone's glasses filled. Lucius filled his for what was likely the seventh time as he stared forward into the fire. "The Dark Lord will arrive tomorrow," they heard Walden Macnair announce. The bunch of them turned their heads and nodded. Bellatrix seemed to notice that the bottle in her hand had somehow run dry and she slid herself onto the ground between Lucius and Severus.

"Lend me your bottle, gentlemen," she implored them. Severus, who had the glass vessel in his hand at the moment, looked down at her and sneered.

"There must be another bottle of Firewhiskey somewhere in camp, Bellatrix," he said to her. "Surely you could discover another." Lucius sighed. His mood had been getting better for hours now, and he felt suddenly an urge toward generosity. He stood from his seat and addressed the group of them.

"I can do you better," he informed the group. Lucius turned and headed to his tent. He had a bottle of something in his tent that had been intended for just this occasion. He also had, he figured, the most perfect wife a man could ask for. Narcissa had managed to slip a few things into his trunks (no doubt by enlisting Dobby's help in the matter) to make his time in the woods more palatable. It hadn't taken him long to uncover the bathtub, in magical miniature and packed into a monogrammed towel with sandalwood soap; that had been his first indication that she'd infiltrated his camping gear. He then came across the blue and gray flannel pyjamas that she'd charmed to remain as warm as if they'd been laying in the sun for hours. And then he'd found the bottle. Narcissa had sent along a bottle of wax-sealed Dalmore enchanted '62 single malt scotch whiskey with a note attached that read "Drink to your victory" in her scrolling and measured script.

He brought forth the bottle from its hiding place inside the steamer trunk at the foot of his bed. Moving to return to the party outside, Lucius saw a shadow coming toward his tent and stopped for a moment to watch Bellatrix let herself in. "Thought I'd help you fetch the booze," she told him. Lucius grinned at his inebriated sister-in-law and held up the bottle for her inspection. Bella stumbled toward him and put both of her hands on the bottle, leaning in to examine it. "Looks expensive," she commented.

"As a matter of fact, it was," he answered. "But it was sent along to assure that we drink properly to our victory over Kolnikov."

"Sent along?" Bella asked. "You mean Cissy packed it?" Lucius nodded.

"She did," he confirmed.

"My sister is far too good for you," Bella asserted. Lucius considered the comment for a moment and shrugged.

"Perhaps," he conceded with a slight nod.

"No perhaps about it you cold bastard," Bella sneered. "Will you be going home tomorrow night, or are you going to avoid her a little more after this?" she asked. Lucius furrowed his brow at her.

"You're drunk, Bella," he told her, brushing past her toward the exit.

"_Stupefy_!" she bellowed, turning her head and her wand toward him. Luckily, her intoxication coupled with his movement caused her curse to barely graze him. It was enough to knock him over, however. He hit the ground with a thud, letting go of the bottle he was holding as he came to rest on his back.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Lucius heard called and he watched as Bella's wand flew from her hand toward the rear of the tent. Severus Snape stepped inside, his wand ever trained on Bellatrix. She scrambled to retrieve her wand, giving Lucius just enough time to get to his feet. He snatched his own wand from his back pocket and practically growled at Bella. "What," Severus called, "might I ask, is going on in here?"

"Bellatrix is simply being Bellatrix," Lucius answered, dusting off his trousers.

"I'm only giving you a piece of the pain I would if I thought Cissy would forgive me," she spat. "You saw her Severus," Bella offered, "she's faring terribly and yet here this wicked arse sits with his thousand galleon bottle of scotch and a smile on his face."

"I assure you that Narcissa is _fine_!" Lucius insisted. "She is certainly in a delicate condition. She is perhaps not faring as well as any of us may like, but she is in no way the first woman ever to go through this, and I have been assured by several people that she should be feeling well in no time. I do not know why it is that you insist on harping on this, Bella, but I do know that I am sick and tired of hearing about my wife's health from you." He was officially mad. Lucius did not so much enjoy his own company when he was angry, and he was fairly sure that the others present would not enjoy his next possible outburst.

"I take back what I said about your having a cold heart," Bellatrix asserted as she advanced toward him. Her wand was down and his was raised, but he still felt a bit nervous watching her wild eyes charging toward him. "You've no heart at all, you unimaginable bastard! I should kill you where you stand."

"Bella…" Snape had his wand trained on her as well and Lucius could tell that he was trying his best to talk her down from the mental ledge she'd just crawled out on.

"Oh bugger off, Severus!" Bella snapped. She turned back toward Lucius and continued her thought. "Losing that baby about to broke Cissy's heart and you acts as though it were a common cold! Even if you have no concern at all for my sister or her feelings, that was your child that died, and one would like to think you had the human decency to at least seem sorry about it you sorry sack of shite!"

Lucius felt suddenly as though he couldn't breathe. What had Bellatrix just said to him? "What did you say?" he managed to ask. He felt the blood rushing out of his head and his jaw drop open.

"You heard me, you miserable arse, I called you a sorry sack of…"

"Before that," he interrupted. Lucius could feel a cold sweat forming on his brow. Severus must have figured out what was going on because Lucius soon felt his friend's arm around his waist, guiding him to the nearest chair.

"What?" Bella asked. She was frowning, although her eyes were still filled with spite and rage. "You want me to repeat what I said about how the miscarriage upset my sister? You want me to read the letter that she sent begging me to come so that she wouldn't have to be alone, or would you rather I just tell you how hard she cried when I got there?"

"You lie," Lucius said to her, shaking his head and feeling his stomach churning inside him. She had to be lying. If something had happened, surely Narcissa would have written him. Lucius looked up at Severus as he was lowered into a chair. Severus had been with Bella before she got here, hadn't he? "She's lying Severus," he insisted. Lucius felt his whole being deflate as Severus shook his head.

"Having recently attended at your wife's bedside," he prefaced, "I regret to inform you that your sister-in-law is telling you the truth, however indelicately. Am I correct in my assumption, Lucius, that the information Bellatrix has just disclosed regarding your wife's condition was previously unknown to you?" Lucius nodded. He had to remind himself to breathe.

"You didn't know?" Bella asked. She was obviously surprised by this information. Lucius just kept nodding. He was almost entirely certain that he was about to throw up.

"I surmise that Lucius had already departed for Lithuania when the tragedy occurred," Severus said to Bella.

"Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw," Bella exhorted, dropping where she stood to sit on the floor of the tent.

"I have to go," Lucius managed to say. Severus nodded.

"I believe the Dark Lord will forgive your absence at the dispensation of Kolnikov," he posited. Lucius took a deep breath and managed to stand from his chair. "Bellatrix," Severus addressed the drunken witch on the rug. "You will see to it that the coachman knows to fly fast and high and straight to Wiltshire." He turned to Lucius and put one hand on each of his shoulders. "At top speed and flying high enough, you will be home before morning," Severus told him. Lucius nodded and began to stumble as intently as possible toward the exit to the tent and the coaches that awaited just outside of camp.

Bellatrix followed a few paces behind him, likely aware that if she tried to speak to him, even an apology, he would not shrink from casting some pernicious hex in her direction. The coachman opened the door and went to prepare the Thestrals for flight. Lucius seated himself on one of the leather benches inside of the coach and tried very hard not to break down into some form of emotional display that would leave him feeling ashamed or humiliated once the initial sting of the moment had passed.

He was concentrating on breathing slowly and steadily when he heard a familiar voice through the door. "Lucius?"

"Severus," Lucius greeted his dark haired friend as he watched Snape's face come into view from the shadows beyond the open carriage door. Severus stepped into the coach and took a seat on the bench across from Lucius.

"I should tell you what I know," he said.

"What do you know?" Lucius asked. He had very little patience for anything at the moment, but he trusted Severus and he had no choice but to sit and wait as the Thestral teams were harnessed.

"I know that Narcissa was healthy before this happened," he answered. "And I know that she's receiving adequate medical attention. All will be well in time, Lucius."

"Thank you, my friend," Lucius said to him. Severus reached into a coat pocket and brought forth a vial, which he placed into Lucius' hand.

"This is a powerful sleeping draught," he said. "Just two drops once you're in the air and you'll sleep through much of the journey. You'll be likely to awaken just as you're over London." Lucius took the vial in both of his hands and nodded. "Give Narcissa my best," he added as he stood up to step from the coach.

"I will, Severus," Lucius answered, nodding slowly. "Thank you." Severus nodded back at him and pulled the door to. Alone in the pitch-black coach, Lucius looked down at the vial Severus had left him with. He felt a lurch and knew that they would be departing soon. The pulled the stopper from the vial; Severus was a very smart man and he possessed a great deal of intuition at times. Sleeping through this trip home would likely be the thing that kept him sane.


	6. Chapter 6

"Where is Mrs. Malfoy?" Lucius snapped at the unusually tall house-elf who greeted him at the door.

"Missus is in her rooms, sir," the elf answered. Lucius shed his cloak in the general direction of his servant and asked another question.

"Is she sleeping?" He pulled his gloves off one by one and dropped them to the floor, where he knew they would be undoubtedly retrieved by one house-elf or another.

"Missus has kept odd hours, sir," the elf answered him. "Missus has not been altogether well."

"I am aware of that, Narmin," Lucius snapped.

"Kibbitt and Lollie says that Missus is not eating well, sir. They will be most pleased to hear you have returned." Lucius frowned. It distressed him to know that Narcissa wasn't eating. He wondered how else she might have been neglectful of her well being in his absence.

It had taken him longer than expected to reach his home and he was in no mood to have received further bad news. There had been a storm over the North Sea and the coachman had chosen to do some sort of evasive maneuvering so as to avoid the turbulence. Lucius, of course, had been sound asleep through this part and he awoke just as they were coming through the other side of the weather issues and approaching the English shore. He'd momentarily entertained the thought to tell the damned coachman to land where they were and Apparate himself the rest of the way home, but had decided against it when he thought the idea through. He had been far too upset to attempt Apparition, and he was almost proud of himself for being aware of himself enough to know it. And so it was nearly ten o'clock when Lucius came bursting through his front door.

He strode intently up the grand staircase and he could feel his pace quicken as he started up the smaller curving staircase leading up to the private floor of the residence. He softened his footsteps as he headed down the hallway toward the bedroom he shared with his wife. It was after ten, and it wasn't like her to be sleeping this late, but if she were wholly unwell he'd hate to disturb her.

He pushed open the bedroom door and looked over to where he thought Narcissa would be laying. She wasn't there; the bed was empty. Lucius crossed toward her side of the bed in order to inspect a row of tiny bottles laid out on her bedside table. He spotted a parchment in front of the row of bottles and bent down to read it.

_Blue bottle: draught of the living dead: one drop at seven, eleven, and three will allow you to sleep through the night. You may take no more._

_Green bottle with square stopper: blood restorative potion: three drops at meals._

_Green bottle with round stopper: seropotion: six drops after meals._

_Purple bottle: draught of assistance: spoonful as needed for pain._

_Eat._

It looked like Severus' handwriting. Lucius could only hope that it was. He could think of very few people he'd trust with any potion for his wife. He wondered where she might be. The French doors that led to the veranda were standing open and he thought she might have gone out for some air. He strode across the room and out onto the terrace.

Lucius spotted his wife immediately. She was curled on her side laying across a wrought iron loveseat that stood out there, sleeping. She was clad in a mustard paisley velvet house dress with mink trim at the collar, cuffs, and hem. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid and she had a chenille throw pulled up over her legs. The throw pillows from the love seat were out of place: one beneath her head, and the other on top of her feet. He stepped close enough to her that his shadow cast itself across her face, which was enough to cause her to rouse. Her cerulean eyes blinked open and he heard her gasp as he regarded her. "Narcissa," he greeted.

"You're supposed to be," she sighed, working herself into a proper sitting position, "in Lithuania," she finished her sentence. Narcissa looked up at him, her mouth slightly agape. "I've yet to read news of Kolnikov being found impaled atop a church steeple or in little pieces throughout the countryside, so I've not been expecting you," she explained.

"You'll read it in tomorrow's paper," he assured her. Lucius could hear his own annoyance at both the driver and at his wife's failure to follow instructions coming out in his voice, but he was fully powerless to control his tone at the moment. "I received some rather disturbing information last night, Narcissa, and so I opted to return home this morning."

"Bella told?" she posited. Lucius nodded at her.

"Bella told," he confirmed. "Have you had a Healer by?" he asked. Narcissa shook her head.

"No, not a Healer," she answered, "but Evelyn has been by every day and she works in the field and…"

"Narmin!" Lucius bellowed. With a 'crack' the unusually tall house-elf appeared at his side. "Narmin," Lucius addressed the new arrival, "You will go to St. Mungo's this morning. The Healer in chief is a man named Colton. You will tell him he is to have dinner at our home tonight with myself and Mrs. Malfoy. You will not return until he agrees." Narmin the house-elf nodded once and then 'crack' he was gone. "Have you eaten breakfast?" Lucius addressed to Narcissa again.

"No, I haven't," she admitted. Lucius leaned back against the stone rail of the terrace and shook his head at her.

"Kibbitt! Lollie!" Lucius yelled into the air again. The two house-elves from the Malfoy kitchen appeared with a simultaneous 'crack'.

"Yessir?" asked Kibbitt, the stouter of the two elves answered.

"You will bring my wife some breakfast," he instructed. "You will bring porridge and muffins, bacon, eggs, and toast with jam. Leave it in the sitting room."

"Yessir!" both of them answered at the same time. Another 'crack' and they were gone as well. Lucius looked down at Narcissa. She had her hands folded in her lap and her head was hung, eyes downcast. She wasn't acting at all like herself, but he also knew that she'd not been properly eating or sleeping. He was quite put out with her callous disregard for her own health under the circumstances and he wasn't afraid to let her know that. He'd come home to take care of her, after all.

"Narcissa, I'm disappointed in you," he said. She nodded her head and inhaled a deep breath.

"Please don't be angry with me, Lucius," she implored, her head tilting upward just enough to look him in the face. "Evelyn says that sometimes these things just happen; that it's not at all my fault. She said that I was doing everything just as I was supposed to, and that it was just a freak thing and…" Lucius wanted to kick himself. He'd cut to the scolding too soon.

"Narcissa," he interrupted her, crossing to sit next to her on the loveseat. He took both of her hands in his and looked her squarely in the eye. "You misunderstand me," he assured her. "I am in no way blaming you for what has happened. This tragedy happened to you, my pet, not because of you; I know that. I am, however, dismayed that you have chosen not to tell me of it."

"How could I?" she asked. Her eyes looked sad and tired. "I couldn't risk sending an owl to where you were; it was too dangerous. I would never dare risk an entire mission and an full cadre of the Dark Lord's followers to pass along a personal message."

"You could have sent a letter with Bellatrix," he suggested.

"I could have," she agreed. "I thought of doing that, but I couldn't think of what to write. And truly I wasn't ever entirely sure that Bella was even going to Lithuania, and I didn't want to give away anything that I oughtn't- even to her. Plus, I thought you deserved to hear this news in person. I certainly didn't mean to have you hear it from my sister. And I dared not ask you to desert the Dark Lord's mission just to come home to me when there was already nothing that could be done." Lucius shut his eyes for a moment and sighed. Bella was right: this woman was too good for him.

"You could have," he told her. "No one would have thought less of you for doing so, under the circumstances."

"Is it enough that I'm glad you're home now?" she asked, her lower lip beginning to tremble. Lucius moved his hands to her face and nodded.

"Yes, pet," he told her. Lucius pulled his wife to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Now," he began again, holding her to him, "will you tell me why you were sleeping on a metal bench on the balcony?"

"I wanted a change of scenery," she replied, "And I guess I just fell asleep."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he chided softly. "We cannot have you falling asleep out of doors on a cloudy morning. What if it had rained, hmm? You'd have caught your death. And can you tell me why you've not been eating well?" he asked.

"I've not been terribly hungry," she replied. Lucius clucked his tongue against his teeth and began to rock her gently.

"That's not good enough, Cissa," he gently scolded her. "If you'd said it was because you'd been sneaking chocolates then I could have forgiven you, but just not being hungry is not acceptable."

"But I'm not hungry," she assured him.

"That's not the point, love," he said to her, "you must eat to build up your strength. I'll not let you risk your future health just because you don't feel hungry." He felt Narcissa nod her head against his chest. Lucius brought a hand to her chin and tilted her face up toward him. He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Let's get you inside," he suggested, standing up and offering her his hands to help her up. She nodded once and put her hands in his, standing from her chair and leaving the chenille blanket on the bench.

Narcissa smiled up at him and he thought he might be seeing the glimmer of a tear in her eyes. Lucius pulled her in to him again and held her for a moment, kissing the top of her head. He inhaled deeply, aware suddenly of how much he had missed the scent of her; that glorious amalgam of amber and honey, verbena and sage that he wished he could bottle and bring along with him whenever he was forced to be apart from her. "I've missed you," she sighed into him. He held her tighter, one hand reaching up to stroke her hair.

"I've missed you too, love," he replied.

"Should we have a nap before breakfast?" she asked him. Lucius could tell that she was hinting that she was really still sleepy.

"Let's have a nap after breakfast," he negotiated, pulling away from her and leading her back into the bedroom. Narcissa gave him a drowsy smile and nodded in agreement. She began to unbutton her housecoat, revealing a calf-length forest green night gown. She deposited the fur lined coat over the back of one of the chairs at the fireplace and replaced it with an embroidered dressing gown that matched her nightdress.

"Could we have breakfast in bed?" she requested. Lucius smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed. He went to her and kissed her forehead before turning to walk out of the bedroom. He passed through their bathroom and into the sitting room, where he spotted the tray that the kitchen staff had left there for them. He smiled inwardly when he saw the mounds of pastries in baskets alongside the items he had requested, and even more so when he spotted the tiny plate of chocolates that was also on the tray. His house-elves had never made any secret of their devotion to Narcissa, and he could at least take a bit of comfort in the fact that the pathetic little miscreants had tried their best.

Lucius picked up the tray and brought it back into the bedroom. He placed the tray on the velvet fainting couch that sat before their giant closet and turned to Narcissa, who had already climbed into the bed. He needed only look at her for a moment to know that she was sound asleep. Lucius chuckled under his breath and sighed. He'd let her have this one. They would have breakfast later. He slid his shoes and his jacket from his weary body; he was tired himself. He unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his trousers, ambling into the closet where his nightclothes were stored. He quickly dispatched with his clothing, remembering that he'd been dressed in the same soiled garments since before sundown the previous night. He had really ought to shower before donning clean clothes, but it would have taken an act of Merlin himself to keep Lucius out of that bed for another minute.

He slipped on a pair of black silk pyjama pants and tied the drawstring as he made his way to his side of their bed. Narcissa was quietly slumbering beneath the covers, and Lucius was careful not to wake her as he slid into bed beside her. The silk sheets felt soft and inviting against his skin and the eiderdown comforters and velvet spreads were a heavenly experience. He had missed everything about this moment. As his head hit the pillow, it occurred to him that he had never been so happy to be anywhere.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Every story gets a 3 chapter day. It's become a pattern. Today was it for this piece. And did you really think that I'd write a whole story with these two with no sappy interaction? Let me know what you think... It's not quite over. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Lucius awoke with a start and a rough wince. His left arm was burning as though someone had just doused him with acid. He bit his lip and grabbed the painful and moving Mark on his forearm. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead and he tried his best to stay still and breathe evenly so as not to wake Narcissa.

They'd had a good day. They'd shared three square meals together and he'd managed to get Narcissa to eat a fair amount at every one. She'd taken all of her potions on schedule and in the prescribed amounts and she hadn't needed anything for pain but once in the afternoon. He'd brought her ice cream at teatime and watched with delight as she gobbled up every spoonful. He'd showered while she read in the early afternoon and she had brushed his hair dry for him in front of the fireplace in their bedroom. After dinner Narcissa had insisted they take a walk through the roses in the west garden and Lucius had happily held her hand as she described to him the meanings ascribed to the different colors of buds.

It had been pointless, idle conversation, but Lucius relished it. He had always enjoyed the way Narcissa could gracefully manage to steer his thoughts from anything distasteful that might be pressing on his mind to some mild pleasantry. Talk of roses or paintings would not serve to occupy his mind for long, but he was always content to be distracted by the sound of her voice and the joy of her company. He'd said nothing about Lithuania; she'd not uttered a word about the miscarriage. The two of them had spent the day pleasingly present for one another and that had been enough for both of them. There would be time to tell of the unpleasant things later on.

Lucius had been far too content to slide back beneath his covers and cradle his wife in his arms until she fell asleep. He'd drifted off to sleep with Narcissa still held tightly to his chest and he struggled now to manage his reaction to the pain in his arm without disturbing her sleep. He gaped at the writhing skull and serpent on his left forearm and his eyes narrowed. Damn Lord Voldemort for calling him away again. What could he possibly require at this moment? But Lucius knew that he had no choice but to answer the call. Any hesitation would reap harsh punishment from the Dark Lord and would likely lead to nothing more than more misery.

He tried his best to slide his arm from beneath his wife without disturbing her rest. Lucius cursed himself silently when he felt her stir beside him. He took the chance to remove his arm from where it had been before leaning down to place a kiss on her temple. "Lucius," Narcissa whispered. He could tell that she was still mostly asleep. She'd not taken the sleeping draught all day and he was rather pleased at how well she'd slept.

"Shhh, Cissa," he soothed her, hoping that she would not wake fully. He watched as she turned onto her left side to face him with open eyes.

"You've been called away again?" she surmised. Lucius nodded with a sigh.

"Go back to sleep dearest," he encouraged. "I'll be back before the sun comes up."

"Darling," she answered. "Don't make promises you're not likely to keep. Tell me you'll love me forever, or that you'll be home as soon as you can be, but we both know that there's no telling how long that will be." Lucius leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I'll love you forever, and I'll be home as soon as it's humanly possible," he whispered.

"Alright, love," she replied, turning onto her back as he got out of bed. Lucius made sure to tuck the covers around her tightly before crossing to the closet to dress. He made hasty work of changing into a set of black robes and tying back his hair. Careful not to make any more noise than he had to, Lucius tiptoed across the rugs to the door leading into the hallway. "Lucius," Narcissa called, her head still on the pillow. "Be…"

"Careful," he finished for her. "I will be. Get some sleep love," he added as he stepped from the room in to the hallway. His arm hurt like hell and he knew better than to dawdle another moment. He'd taken too long to get where he was going already. Whatever the punishment would be for his misdeed, Lucius decided it was worth it. He was severely distressed, as well as more than a little bit angry, at having to leave her again. Lucius conjured his Death Eater garb and mask as, scowling, he tramped down the stairs and down the hallway to the private library. He practically charged through the library door and through the French doors onto the terrace. When he reached the Apparition point on the balcony, he could hear himself grumbling audibly as he felt the common unpleasant sensation of Apparating to the Dark Lord's side.

The end of the line was right where Lucius had expected to be. He cursed aloud at the sight of the Death Eater camp in Lithuania. Hadn't he just spent an entire night trying to get the hell away from this place? Lucius squared his jaw and straightened the mask on his face. Before him was the same campfire he had only recently deserted, and around it stood twelve others in full Death Eater regalia. He moved into his place in the circle and stood still.

The Dark Lord was occasionally one to stand on ceremony; and tonight it seemed that every possible bit of pomp and circumstance was to be observed. The sacred circle faced into the fire, the thirteen wizards perfectly silent, awaiting the arrival of their Lord. Voldemort obliged them quickly enough, appearing in the center of the circle with Kolnikov balanced on the end of his wand. Voldemort raised his wand above his head and Kolnikov began to spin end over end. Several members of the circle were having to stifle a laugh as they watched their vanquished enemy being tossed about like so much flotsam by the tiniest movements of the Dark Lord's wand.

Suddenly, with no prior indication, the limp but obviously conscious body of Kolnikov was flung hundreds of feet in the air and came plummeting back toward Earth, stopping just shy of the flames of the campfire. He squirmed and writhed over the heat of the flame as it licked at his already blistered body. "Which one of you found our enemy first?" Voldemort's voice hissed in address to the assembled wizards. "Which one of you gave him my earliest greeting?"

"Bellatrix," Walden Macnair answered. "She spotted him across the square, standing in the churchyard, and let him know just who was looking for him." Lord Voldemort smiled as he turned to the smallest of the Death Eater circle and tilted his head.

"My dear Bellatrix," he greeted, coming toward her, his sinewy form moving in more of a slither than a walk. "I should have known that it was you by the condition in which he was given to me. Had some fun with him, did you?"

"Master," Bellatrix answered, falling to her knees as he approached. "Master I was merely preparing this horrid filth to meet his fate at the hands of my most powerful Lord."

"Would you like another go, Bellatrix?" he asked. Lord Voldemort reached down his hand to her and she took it, standing to meet his gaze. Bella was such the sycophant. She rose gladly and reached her wand out in both deference and excitement.

"May I, my lord?" she asked.

"Be my guest," Lord Voldemort allowed. Bellatrix raised herself up to her full height and her chest seemed to puff up to twice its normal size. She stepped forward until she was just inside the circle and trained her wand on the still spinning Kolnikov.

"_Crucio_!" She yelled, her voice both shrill and deep all at once. The Death Eaters watched as their fallen enemy screamed and convulsed in pain. He suddenly fell to the ground and the bunch of them watched as he wallowed in the dirt, the pain of the curse still upon him at full force.

Normally Lucius would have delighted in watching the torturous escapades of his master and his comrades, but tonight he had neither the interest or the patience for Lord Voldemort's more twisted means of punishing those who defied him. Tonight Lucius wished heartily for the Dark Lord to dispatch with the miserable lump and get done with it. As if he was reading Lucius' mind (and there was a good chance that he actually was), Lord Voldemort turned away from the scene playing out in the mud at his feet and looked him in the eye. "Lucius," he hissed, stalking slowly toward him. "You nearly missed this," he finished.

"My apologies, my lord," Lucius offered. He had no real desire to be here, bit neither had he the desire to anger the Dark Lord now that he was here. "I was called away suddenly… on a personal matter. The mission had been completed. It was only the celebration that I chose to absent myself from." Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes and reached out his hand toward Lucius. Voldemort's cold and spiny fingers landed on his forehead and Lucius gasped at their unnatural temperature. He knew what was happening and although he was loathe to allow the Legillemency, he knew that he was powerless to stop it and that trying would only incur the Dark Lord's wrath.

He saw the look on his master's face change slowly from curiosity to what might have been satisfaction. "And yet you came?" Lord Voldemort actually sounded surprised. Lucius was sure that the Dark Lord had become fully aware of his situation at home, and he was only concerned now as to how his tragedy was going to be received.

"You called me here, master," Lucius answered.

"That I did," Voldemort affirmed. "I believe it is for you to fell the final blow, Lucius," he added, stepping out of the way to give Lucius access to the still writhing body on the ground at their feet.

"I would be honored, master," Lucius answered, bringing forth his wand.

"Your loyalty to me and to our cause has been proven this night, Lucius," Voldemort asserted. "Your heart is not in the task, and yet your feet stand in the circle."

"My heart is in the cause, my lord," Lucius replied to him. "As is my wife's." Lord Voldemort smiled. His smile was a distorted, disturbing thing to behold, and it was likely that all assembled found themselves lucky that his smile was so rare.

"I have said this before: that you have married well," the Dark Lord reminded him. Lucius nodded. "Do this thing, Lucius," Voldemort instructed. "Fell your enemy. Finish him. Bring an end to the man who brought you to this service tonight, and then return to where your presence is further required."

It was no secret to any among them that the Dark Lord had an affinity for Narcissa Malfoy. None of them exactly knew why; Lucius included. He had brought his bride to meet Lord Voldemort on the night of their wedding, after he had been summoned to answer for the presence of powerful magic upon him. Narcissa had performed admirably under the Dark Lord's questioning, but there was a nebulous quality to the bond that had been formed between them that night. Lucius wasn't certain if it had been her honesty and forthrightness that had impressed the Dark Lord, or if it had been her charm or her beauty. No matter; the Dark Lord had held Lucius' wife in high regard since the time of their first meeting. And now he was allowing Lucius the honor of personally bringing about the downfall of their greatest enemy to date so as to compensate the both of them for their time apart.

Lucius stepped further into the circle and concentrated on his wand, which was still pointed at Kolnikov. He was glad to be doing this. He realized that fact suddenly, as he looked down at the miserable lump of humanity on the ground beneath his boots. This man had threatened the way of life of wizards across Europe. This scum had challenged the ideals that he had espoused his entire life. This filthy insect had been responsible for the mission that had taken him away from his life for so long that his only child had died before ever having the chance to be alive and his beautiful wife had been left to deal with the grief and the pain all by herself.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Lucius felt all of the anger and the rage that he had only just realized he had been holding in spill violently from his throat and he watched as the hatred and the wrath poured out the end of his wand. A bright and fantastic spray of green light burst from Lucius' wand and found its way to the quivering form on the ground. Kolnikov ceased his shaking and lay perfectly still; his face in the mud and his legs curled up beneath him.

Suddenly, as if caught up in an unseen wind, Lucius found himself feeling as though his skin was being cycled through his eye sockets and then back out to its proper place. He found himself presently, and through no action of his own, back at the Apparition point on the terrace of the private library of his home. He shook his head as he removed his Death Eater mask and cloak as he stepped back through the French doors and into the house.

Lucius strode quickly and intently from the library and down the hall. He started up the stairs and caught himself skipping two at a time once he reached the top. He was almost at a flat run when he reached his bedroom and pushed open the door with so much force that he had to catch it before it swung so far as to hit the opposite wall. Lucius looked over at the bed, on the far wall to his left. He had to let himself smile a little as he shook his head and walked into the closet to change. His wife was sound asleep; he easily took some comfort in the fact that she'd managed to get back to sleep in his absence.

He stripped himself quickly and happily slid into black silk boxer shorts. It felt good to have air on his skin; air of an appropriate temperature for April. He crossed the floor as quietly as he could and stopped just as he reached the edge of the bed. Lucius grinned and shook his head again while he considered his options.

Narcissa had fallen asleep on his side of their bed. It was a trick she'd begun very early in their marriage when he was called away at night, to see to it that he would be forced to wake her in order to get into bed when he came home. Most times he'd been given no pause by the need for her to wake up and let him into the bed, as her attentions to him had tended toward the carnal on many such nights. He knew that this night her intentions were not to such mischief and honestly he wondered why she'd chosen to position herself on his half of the bed.

Lucius lifted the blankets off of her sleeping form and slid carefully into place next to her. He barely had room to fit his head on the pillow next to hers, but he managed to fit his whole self onto the tiny space left between Narcissa and the edge of the mattress. He felt her sigh as he moved into the bed against her. "You're home," she whispered, scooting herself over in the bed just far enough for him to fit comfortably. Lucius moved farther into the bed and wrapped her up in his arms.

"I am," he affirmed, his voice a whisper against her cheek. Narcissa nuzzled her face into his neck and pulled the covers up around her chin.

"Can we have ice cream for breakfast tomorrow?" she asked. Lucius couldn't tell if she meant what she said or if she was still part way asleep.

"We can have ice cream and chocolates if you want, love," he answered her. It occurred to him that he didn't rightly give half a damn whether she was serious or not. If she meant it, then he did too; he was certainly willing to indulge her if it would get her to eat something. Narcissa sighed softly and he felt a tiny nod of her head against his shoulder.

"Good night my love," she said. Lucius nodded.

"It is that," he affirmed. Lucius arranged the covers around his shoulders and kissed Narcissa gently on the forehead. They lay there in silence for a few minutes before she tilted her head up and looked at him.

"Lucius," she whispered, her hand coming up to stroke his hair.

"What is it, pet?" he asked, looking down at her with a tiny smile.

"Are you going to get called away again?" she asked. He knew, of course, what she meant. Narcissa wasn't the kind of person to let on when she needed something, but he could tell by her bearing that she was not alright with being alone at the moment. His wife was fully aware that he would be called away again, likely soon, to attend to the business of the Dark Lord's cause. But tonight neither his commitment to the cause nor her knowledge of that commitment was the important thing. He knew that the important thing at this moment was for him to reassure her. He needed to tell her a version of the truth that she would want to hear. He squeezed her tighter for a moment and again kissed the top of her head.

"Not tonight, my dearest," he answered her. It was true. He was certain of that the same as he was certain he was alive. He was certain enough that he would not be leaving her again anytime too soon that he was willing even to affirm for her, "I promise."

THE END

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sorry about the 2 day lag in posts. Sometimes work explodes on you from the most unexpected directions. :p Thanks for all of the feedback and I hope that you have enjoyed this piece. Tomorrow will either be the beginning of another chaptered piece with Death Eaters in the 70's (they were FUN when they were younger... I had no idea!) or the one-shot in my head that takes place in 1999 (late in the war) which would be only my second attempt at including Harry himself in fic. I've also almost finished another chapter of my Slytherin sided canon rewrite (I am such a freak about that one, I write and rewrite forever before posting). All of this to say that I LOVE you guys and that there will be more from the Desk of the Slytherin side of life very soon!!!

Cheers! -MQ


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